


you never know what people have up their sleeves

by flyingthesky



Series: so don't you worry your pretty little mind [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Character Study, F/M, Pudding, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/pseuds/flyingthesky
Summary: Even though she met Louis at a party and that's not the most auspicious start to a relationship, Eleanor doesn't feel the tension she always carries in her shoulders around him. He seems so secure and friendly and just.Safe. Being around Louis is a little like being in a blanket fort or a secret hideaway, and there's practically nowhere else she'd rather be - no, thereisn'tanywhere she'd rather be.
Relationships: Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson
Series: so don't you worry your pretty little mind [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550581





	you never know what people have up their sleeves

The thing about Eleanor's hesitance is that it's not that she doesn't like the idea of penises or, you know, normal genitalia. It's not that she's a prude either, which she's thankful Louis doesn't make a crack about. He seems to understand hat Eleanor's hesitance doesn't so much come from being uncomfortable so much as being inexperienced. Louis is, well.

Louis is the first person Eleanor's ever told anyone about her, um. Her tentacles.

She had expected him to scream or freak out or . . . She hadn't expected it to go well, basically, and it's just. It's been a little surreal, the way that Louis takes her for what she is and doesn't force her into things or make her talk before she's ready. She's never really _been_ with anyone else - which would seem a little absurd for most uni students, but most uni students haven't spent most of their life thinking that they were, you know, a monster. People have asked her out before, and Eleanor's said _yes_. She's gone on dates and kissed people, but some part of her always knew that those people weren't . . . safe. _Safe_ is a good word for it.

Even though she met Louis at a party and that's not the most auspicious start to a relationship, Eleanor doesn't feel the tension she always carries in her shoulders around him. He seems so secure and friendly and just. _Safe_. Being around Louis is a little like being in a blanket fort or a secret hideaway, and there's practically nowhere else she'd rather be - no, there _isn't_ anywhere she'd rather be.

And yes, it's tough to be with Louis because of all the death threats and terrible, terrible things that people tell her. It's not as tough as it seems, though, because Eleanor's spent so long hating herself that other people hating her isn't anything new. Louis touches their foreheads together sometimes, tells her that he's sorry, and Eleanor tells him not to worry. Nothing that these girls are saying to her is anything she hasn't said herself, and if Eleanor's being honest, she feels a sort of kinship with them. She remembers what it was like to hate herself so much that she started hating everyone who seemed to have it better than her too.

Eleanor remembers what it's like to be a young teenage girl, because those memories are still fresh in her mind. She remembers hating the people who dated her favorite celebrities, remembers crying because no one would ever love her. She doesn't tell Louis any of this, because it's not something he would understand anyway. She wouldn't expect him to, because the particular experience of being a teenage girl is something that only someone who was a teenage girl can understand. Louis understands a lot of things, but he _can't_ understand that.

It's not something she minds, though, because Louis understands a lot of other things. He understands why their whole relationship goes slowly, why it takes five or six attempts before Eleanor is actually comfortable enough to let him try and get her off. She's much more comfortable with getting him off, although it takes a while to work her way up from handjobs to blowjobs. Louis doesn't seem rushed about it at all, content to have her with him, and it just makes Eleanor want to . . . not _repay_ him, exactly. More like reward him.

So when they in bed and she settles him in her lap (she doesn't know how or when that started, it's honestly just something that they do), Eleanor isn't doing anything that Louis is pressuring her to. She's doing it because she wants to, and because the look on Louis' face whenever she suggests that they try something new is _priceless_. So, Eleanor curves her fingers around where he's already half-hard and smiles at him.

"I was thinking," she says, casual like she might say she's picked out a dress for the next function they're attending, "that maybe you could come in my mouth?"

Louis sputters, and Eleanor giggles. She's never gotten used to the way that Louis seems to think her inexperience somehow makes her naive. It's not a bad thing, just something funny that makes him a little more real somehow. Makes him a little less Louis Tomlinson Of One Direction and a little more _Louis_ , who brought her breakfast in bed on her birthday and who kisses like she's everything he ever wanted.

"You don't," Louis says, floundering a little. "You don't have to."

"I know." Eleanor touches their noses together, undercutting the sweetness of the gesture by simultaneously undoing the fly on his jeans and slipping her fingers in. "I want to."

Wrapping a hand around Louis, she jerks him off just to feel the way his breathing falters. Tilting her head, Eleanor presses their lips together. She bites down, which draws a groan that verges on a whimper from Louis. For all Louis like to think she's sweet, Eleanor isn't above taking advantage of the things she's learned about Louis. She knows he likes being bit, and she would feel worse about using it if Louis wasn't always tugging on her hair when they're in public.

He makes it look cute and innocent when it's anything but, when it sometimes knocks the wind from her chest and makes her want to drag him into a bathroom and make him finish what he's started. They've done that on occasion, but Eleanor prefers when they have more time and she can be certain that she'll actually be able to get off instead of just frustrated. It's also easier to clean up and keep everything from . . . not being purple.

Come is hard enough to clean out of clothes, but they've found out that Eleanor's ink is an actual _nightmare_ to try and remove so it's usually just. Well, Eleanor's just managed to perfect a look that says _I know exactly what you're doing and don't think I won't make you pay for it when we get home_. Louis always smirks like the cat who's gotten the cream, and Eleanor thinks that maybe she shouldn't encourage him so much, but it's kind of fun to do something . . . _Daring_ , when they're out in public.

So much of what they do is carefully constructed, done while thousands of people watch, so it's nice to be able to spread Louis out on the bed, nipping at his skin in warning when he squirms. She has him entirely to herself, is one of only a handful of people who have seen him like this, and it's funny. Louis worries about the things that angry teenage girls send her, but Eleanor doesn't care at the end of the day because (in a twisted sort of way) _she's won_. That's probably petty and Eleanor would feel bad about it, but she can't really because she gets this. She gets Louis spread out on a bed, being still because she wants him to be, and she gets the drag of his cock across her tongue. It's _hers_. If that's all people have to be angry at her for then Eleanor thinks that's completely fine.

Louis groans, and his fingers twist in the sheets. Harry's over at Nick's, and they've got the whole night to themselves so Eleanor doesn't rush it - partially because it serves Louis right for spending most of dinner tugging gently on her hair and partially because Eleanor just likes taking her time. They never seem to have the luxury of anything more than quick tumbles, because Louis is so busy and she's got uni, so it's nice to spend some time pulling out the tricks that she knows and learning new ones.

She can't deepthroat, which isn't something she considers an actual failing (because really how many people actually _can_ deepthroat?), so she works a hand over the rest of Louis' cock and flicks her tongue over the head of his cock when she slides away. It's possible that once, when they had both probably been too drunk to be having that particular conversation, Eleanor had asked Harry for blowjob tips. It's also possible that the single tip she remember is related to paying attention to the head of the cock, but that's kind of not the point and she probably would have figured it out anyway. She likes to think she would have, anyway.

A girl allowed to have pride, okay? And yes, okay it's possible that Eleanor's about three years behind everyone else in terms of sexual experience, but she likes to think that she's a fast learner. Louis doesn't seem to be complaining, anyway, and that's mostly what counts. Eleanor takes him down as far as she can, moving in time with her strokes, and she hears the way Louis gasps. He's not exactly _loud_ , the quietness maybe stemming from having too many sisters running through the house or being on a bus for too many months of the year, which Eleanor doesn't take personally. She's not exactly loud either.

It does mean that she has to pay more attention, watch for the other signs that he's close. She's almost got it down, enough so that when he tugs on her hair just a little, she suppresses a moan and stays exactly where she is. Him coming isn't a surprise, not really, except for how it is.

Coughing, Eleanor pulls off. "Oh god, that's _vile_."

"I told you you didn't have to," Louis says. He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. "You okay?"

"You taste like vanilla pudding and it's _gross_ ," Eleanor says, swallowing. She can still taste it, though, and just. _Ugh_. Whoever invented vanilla pudding was a horrible person. "Can you get me a glass of water?"

"Wait, _what_?"

Eleanor shoots Louis an exasperated look. "Water. Can you get me a glass of it?"

"No," Louis says, shaking his head, "the other thing you said. About vanilla pudding."

"You taste like vanilla pudding," Eleanor says, patient. Sometimes orgasms make Louis a little slow. "Which _you_ of all people should be aware that I hate."

Abruptly, Louis pulls her close and kisses her. He licks into her mouth, and Eleanor is too surprised to kiss back for a moment. She does, though, because kissing Louis until the taste goes away is the second best option to drinking a ton of water and Louis seems a bit preoccupied with the vanilla pudding thing. When he lets her go, breathing heavily, he blinks.

"Oh that's _weird_ ," Louis says. He sounds a little shell-shocked, and Eleanor kind of wants to ask if he's okay. "It's not supposed to taste like that."

Tilting her head, Eleanor waits for an explanation. Louis looks at her for a second, and she can see when it clicks in his head that she doesn't really have a whole lot of context for this. He sighs.

"It's, like. It's supposed to be bitter and kind of gross. Not vanilla pudding. I don't know how to explain this, but like. Yeah. It's weird."

"So basically what you're saying is that you come vanilla pudding and I have tentacles?" Eleanor laughs, because it's actually ridiculous when she says it out loud. Her boyfriend comes vanilla pudding and that's not even the weirdest thing about them having sex. "Wow, our lives are . . . a little weird."

"Yeah." Louis shakes his head. "Yeah, they kind of are."

**Author's Note:**

> this is technically a timestamp from the main fic that was originally posted to [tumblr](https://hesatreat.tumblr.com/post/44288376152) because my thesis was softly killing me


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